A Thousand Angels
by Gamma Orionis
Summary: Rabastan's crimes are catching up to him, and there is no escape. Written for the Song Fic Challenge on Hogwarts Online II.


**Title**: A Thousand Angels  
**Character**: Rabastan Lestrange  
**House**: Ravenclaw  
**Name**: Gamma Orionis (Gamma)  
http: / /www. youtube. com/watch?v=p0j5XWnb8aE

Author's Notes: This chapter is also a part of the "Songs that Inspire" Collection on the Hogwarts Online II account, but I am publishing it here so that people looking for specifically Rabastan Lestrange related works, and/or people who have me on alert can find it. If you have already reviewed it in the collection, there is no need to do so here as well.

A Thousand Angels is the sole property of Rachel MacWhirter. I only use her beautiful music for inspiration.

Enjoy!

)O(

Murder was not the way that Rabastan Lestrange had expected it to be. He had heard his brother – and the other Death Eaters – talk about the rush it gave them to kill, to steal a life all for their own, and he had expected to share in that euphoria, but when he finally got the chance, when he raised his wand and delivered the killing curse, watched the Mudblood crumple to the ground, all he felt was horror.

"Rab? Are you all right?"

Rodolphus's voice cut through the haze of shock and terror, and Rabastan looked up at his brother dazedly. What was he supposed to say? Rabastan had been begging his brother ever since he took the Dark Mark to be allowed to accompany him on a mission so he might prove his own worth to the Dark Lord, and Rodolphus had been so proud of him for finally working up the nerve to kill, and he couldn't back down now. He wanted to run away and hide.

But he knew he must not do that.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost…" Rodolphus's tone was light, as though he was expecting that to make Rabastan feel better.

He shot his brother a deathly glare – of _course_ he looked like he'd just seen a ghost.

That was the realization dawning.

Rabastan was numb through the rest of the evening, hiding the body and checking for witnesses as per his brother's instructions, while Rodolphus looked on. He forced himself to nod and say, "I'm fine" when he asked.

When the brothers returned home, Rabastan was sure that their parents could tell. Rodolphus fed them a lie about having been out at a dance or some such, and though they nodded and seemed to accept this explanation, Rabastan was positive – _beyond_ positive – that his crimes were visible to even the most casual of onlookers.

They all knew. They all knew what he had done. His parents might _look_ as though they believed that their two perfect sons had done no wrong, but _they knew. They had to._

Rabastan dared not cry in front of Rodolphus – _brave Rodolphus, strong Rodolphus _– while the two of them went upstairs, though he desperately wanted to. He was doing everything he could to keep his brother convinced that he had enjoyed the kill, despite the way he shook at the mere thought of what he had done. But when Rabastan was in his shaded room, alone at last and able to cry, he could not make the tears fall.

He looked into his mirror, and it was hard to believe what the thin, frail boy in the glass had done. The horror wasn't showing – Rabastan looked just as innocent in his reflection as he had before he had become a murderer.

He shuddered and shivered and looked away, grateful for the comforting warmth of the bed he crawled into. He lay on his back, forcing his body to relax into the mattress and clearing his mind of thought and emotion as best he could. For a few hours of lying there, he thought he was going to be all right.

And then the nightmares started.

Rabastan had suffered hallucinations in the past – usually when he was ill – but what he saw the night after that first murder was nothing like the dreams and visions he had experienced before.

He was lying in bed, staring numbly up at the ceiling, when voices began to sound in the back of his mind. They were faint sounds at first, but they wouldn't go away. Rabastan felt terror rising in his throat as they became clearer and clearer and then…

Angels. They were angels. He could see them now, their light illuminating his bedroom, a thousand angels, surrounding him, all around his bed, watching him.

His first instinct was to run. He tried to move his legs, but they felt numb and weak and he staggered as he got out of bed, collapsing to the ground. The angels looked down on him, their expressions unreadable.

They'd come to get him, he thought wildly, as he tried to drag himself to his feet. They'd come to punish him for his crime. His eyes moved towards his wand, but no sooner had he seen it than it was gone. He tried to stand, but his legs gave out completely and he fell to his knees. Crawling towards the door desperately, clawing the ground, Rabastan tried to scream as he found the door only getting further away with every motion.

He couldn't escape them. They controlled the fight. They controlled him. They controlled _everything._

There were so many that they blinded him now. They blocked out the rest of his world, made it impossible to see _anything_ except them. He was trapped, completely trapped.

Two thousand eyes watched as he started to scream.

"Rab! Rab!"

_Oh,_ the sound of Rodolphus's voice was the sweetest thing Rabastan had heard in his life. He clawed wildly at the air around him, his fingers passing right through the bodies of the angels, until he felt his nails dig into soft, warm, familiar flesh. Strong arms wrapped around him, and Rodolphus's voice was right in his ear now. "It's all right, Rab, it's all right, I've got you."

He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking violently, and when he opened them again, the angels were invisible and all he could see was his brother's face, his concerned expression as he looked down on him.

"R- Rod…" Rabastan whispered. His voice was high-pitched and sounded pitiful even to him, but he could not find it in him to speak any louder.

"It's all right, everything's all right…" Rodolphus soothed. "Shh… don't talk…"

Rabastan nodded and buried his face in his brother's shoulder, allowing himself to be held. He sat in the shadowy room, rocking slowly back and forth, Rodolphus's arms around him as he whispered in his ear, "It's all right, Rab, it's all right, it was just a nightmare, you're safe…"

Rabastan did feel safer with his brother holding him like that, but he knew he was wrong. Everything wasn't all right. It wasn't true.

The angels were coming to get him.

)O(

_Fin_


End file.
